Through Thick and Thin
by Amoridere
Summary: The story of two sisters and how nature can be cruel.
1. Stage I

**Authoress Note:** Generally, this'd be all one story but, I decided to split it into chapters to ease reading. - **Amoridere**

* * *

She's a funny one, she is, and can be most amusing, not allowing most anything to get her down. She's always been strong and is quick to throw herself at any challenge that comes her way. Of course, there are some challenges I do wish she had never had to face, challenges I do wish I could have protected her from. Nature has a funny way of being rather heedlessly cruel and it most certainly was it this case.

I remember when we met and how I didn't be a sister to her then, which left room for the future. However, she's needed me now, more than ever, especially with these circumstances. As said before, I do wish I could have protected her from this but nature is nature and, no matter how hard I try or how much I wished, I cannot protect her from nature. For the first in a long time, since then, I had never felt so powerless, yet I was determined, like she was.

Never did I anticipate a phone call from our cheerful friend Mako and her sounding less than cheerful, actually, she sounded rather sad, leaving me to inquire. She gave no answers just, "You have to come the hospital." Knowing it to be urgent news, I got to the hospital as soon as I was able. Like a young child, I was led by the hand to her room. She was sleeping, looking as though she was alright and maybe the doctors had made a mistake, until I had noticed the intravenous drip in her arm.

We sat by her until the doctor came to talk to me. He quietly and sympathetically explained that she was sick with something I'd rather not mention, however, he did state that, currently, she was in the very early part of Stage I (meaning it spread but it's still localized, as it only spread to the neighboring tissue) and that she'd make an eventual recovery. He also informed me of her treatments, the which included chemotherapy. Before she awoke and before he left the room, he told me of how brave she is and not too many patients he's treated were as brave as she was, going onto note as to how she didn't break down or anything of that sort, actually, she had taken the news pretty well, going about getting her affairs in order and cooperating with the doctors to plan her treatments, along with not expressing pain or upset during those treatments.

While she was brave, some part of me wanted to break. I was terrified for her and of fate to be cruel yet again. Of course, she would have none of that. When she awoke and saw me, she smiled and said, "It's gonna be okay, Sis." We talked for awhile, she telling me about goings in the hospital and how Mako had to hold her hand when she's had a her blood drawn and when they put the IV in her arm. As I was leaving and after I held her in my arms, she asked, "See you tomorrow?" to which I affirmed, after I had ran my errands for the day.

That would become routine and, with each visit, came a new story. At times, we would converse with the doctor about her treatments, how they were going, and her prognosis, along with what was to be done about the future. Her condition went up and down. She was losing weight, going from 120 to 65 pounds within a short period, and her hair was thinning. She was in a large amount of pain and often slept, although she did stay awake for visits. It was all new and frightening I won't lie, however, it became a tad harder to bear, especially since the Elite Four are a very curious bunch.

I didn't feel alright talking about it but I couldn't dodge them, especially since I had been dodging my plans with them. I had been strong, playing up a ruse, like I had done before, pretending that all was will be fine. Of course, all ruses shatter and I would have to come clean about everything at some point.


	2. Stage II

After some time and after a daily visitation, I was approached by a barrage of questions. After being asked, I had finally broke, saying, calmly, "My sister is in the hospital." They were silent, until Uzu inquired as to why, to which I responded, "I thought I'd never have to say this but its because she's sick."

" _Matoi? Sick_? No way."

"Yes, it's true, she's sick, very. Doctors say she'll be alright because she was diagnosed in the early stages but, even then, they cannot be entirely sure, as there will always be a chance for things to take a turn for the worse."

"How is she now?"

"She's managing. I cannot say that she is fine, as she is tired, in pain, losing weight, and has almost no hair, yet she's determined to beat this."

"Are you afraid?"

"Yes, I am, of course, I'd be, after all, she is the only blood relative that I have left and this illness could kill her, along with the fact that I have only but recently got to know her."

"Is the medicine working?"

"I don't know. So far, it seems to be but, as I've and the doctors said earlier there is a chance, especially with illnesses like this, things could take a turn for the worse."

"How did she take it?"

"The doctor said she took it well, which is what I would expect, knowing her."


	3. Stage III

After my conversation, I went to see her the next day. Unusually, she was awake and doing something. Going by the presence of crayons and things, I figured that she was probably drawing pictures or coloring black and white pictures in coloring books, things to take her mind off of her illness and its treatments. Upon noticing my presence, she said, "Oh, hey Sis!" and reached out her arms for an embrace. We hugged for awhile, before she let go and said, "Doc said I can go home with you for a couple of nights."

"When?"

"This weekend."

"Is there any special preparations that need to be made?"

"Well, I'm on a special diet, for one, which sucks, but I can still eat lemons, only on Tuesdays and weekends."

"Alright then, enlighten me, what isn't allowed on your diet?"

"Too many things to count but here is a list. The lemons are the exception and it also can't be microwaved, processed, or whatever some shit, along with being 'fresh'."

"Anything else?"

"I would like a fluffy blanket because I get really cold at times and that is pretty much it."

After that conversation, we sat for awhile before she asked, as visiting hours were ending, "Hey, Sis, is it cool if I braid your hair?" Of course, I didn't ask why, I just let her have her fun, allowing her to do so should things take a turn for the worst. Ironically, for someone who didn't even have hair at that point (save a few red strands), she seemed to be pretty content with doing something small. Seeing her content and relatively happy, she seemed almost like a child whose discovered something new and preoccupying. After she finished braiding my hair, tying it off with a blue ribbon, she asked if I could play the piano for her this weekend, knowing I hadn't did that in a long time, yet I complied nevertheless.

Once I came home, I set about making preparations for her weekend visit. Her list was a long one but it wasn't hard to adapt, seeing it was practically akin to a detox diet, only the circumstance was different. As I shopped, I made a note to get a cook book, so I could cook the stuff and make it more to her tastes. After I had shopped, I made a resolve to practice the piano, as to bring back a few skills. Of course, I wasn't sure of what to play but I figured it would be soothing like a lullaby, after all, she did soothe my recurrent nightmares with one, so I assume it would be most appropriate.

That weekend, she did come home with me. For a spell, it was like old times, before she had fallen ill, except she was quieter than usual. Illness would do that and whatever energy she did have, she focused it on on getting well. However, she was unusually awake and, yet, she wasn't doing much of anything, outside of waiting for me come home and arts and crafts. We enjoyed each other's company and often, once again, told each other stories, tried new recipes, and watched movies.

In that line, we did often talk about what we were to do when she got well and asked me if there was somewhere special I'd like to go, to which I responded, "Yes, I do have a place I'd like to go, Europe." In response, she'd ask if she could go with me when I get the chance, to which I obliged.

Before I took her back to the hospital, I opted to play a couple of songs for her, as she's asked. I told her I'd see her again the next day and have her home with me the next weekend, telling her I'd play for her again and that we'd spend even more time together. Like still wet watercolors, the days I've visit just bled and mixed, until the weekend came, where she came home with me again.

Of course, said weekend, just couldn't be quiet, as the Devas opted on visiting unannounced. Frankly, I do wish they could have told me beforehand, so I could explain a few things. However, while it is a tad pestering to have them come over unannounced, they were just curious to see how she was doing and she just so happened to be staying. She didn't mind and, with the patience of a saint, answered their questions in simple and to the point answers. Suffice to say, the conversation proved to be an interesting one.

"Are you getting better?"

"Apparently, Doc hasn't told me otherwise."

"What happened to your hair?"

"Chemo."

"What's 'chemo'?"

"A medicine."

"Are you scared?"

"Kinda."

"Is it boring in the hospital?"

"Can be."

"Does it hurt when you get your medicines?"

"Yes, actually, when they put the IVs in."

"How many doctors do you have?"

"Three, the rest are nurses."

"How come you stay here instead of with the Underacheiver?"

"I want to."

"Make any new friends?"

"You guys and the kid down the hall."

"What's their name?"

"Momo."

"Is Momo nice?"

"Yes."

"How old is she?"

"Eight."

"How is she?"

"Getting better, actually, she's on her last round of chemo and will be going home soon."

That conversation dragged on for hours before snapped her head to the side, signalling that she was tired and would like to be left alone for a bit. She retreated to her room, where she remained until dinnertime. "Matoi tires out easily, doesn't she?" Houka asked, while I cooked dinner, to which I responded, "Yes, she does, being sick, however, that is the most energetic that I have seen her today."

"Hmm, interesting, how are you affected by her being ill?"

"I'm scared, just as much as she is, however, I know I would have to be strong for her and make what could be her last time happy. Generally, I enjoy spending time with her and she in turn, so, naturally, she and Mako agreed that she would spend weekends here. Honestly, seeing the amount of pain she is in and how much the illness and the treatments thereof take a toll on her, I would opt to switch places with her if I could, let nature be cruel to me instead of her. Of course, I don't think I'd be as strong as she is when it comes to dealing with this, after all, she's taken the news, treatments, and has coped pretty well, no matter how painful and tiring it's proven to be."

"Interesting."

"Yes, I suppose it is, at the same time, Little Sister has always been stronger than me in some way, shape, or form. If anything, she is one of if not the strongest people I know. At times, I will have preferred to cry for her but I know she will not allow it, so my best alternative is to be there for her while I can. No time for tears and no time for regrets."

After dinner and before bed, I opted to play the piano for her again. She requested but one song, " _Baby Mine"_ and asked me to sing.

To our surprises, it turns out I have a really nice singing voice.


	4. Stage IV

After awhile of treaments and visits, I was told she'd have to stay in the hospital for awhile. While I didn't express it, I felt reason to assume the worse. Her condtion almost seemed critical. I always came, rarely missing a visit. Silently, I pleaded for her illness not to take her away, for all to be well. I could swear she was reading my mind as, at her own behest, we've spent our visits in a long and quiet embrace.

If things were taking a turn for the worse, I felt it was better to pretend. On one visit, I found her braiding my hair again, her saying, "When I get out of here and after my hair grows back, you're gonna braid my hair." I promised her I would, not knowing what else to say. After braiding my hair, I took notice to the fact that she used a red ribbon instead of a usual blue one to tie it off, troubling myself more that what I was before.

Planning for future during a supposed end, I humored her, not allowing her to know I was upset. Stubborn and foolish, I won't deny, however, she is clever is more ways than one, as she knew I was upset, even if she didn't articulate it. She showed she knew by silently conforting me with hugs and things, trying to take care of me, as I took care of her.

It seemed like only yesterday that we met, fought, saved the world, and when I found out she was diagnosed, allowing this journey of tribulation to begin. We've had our ups and downs and it seemed her time was coming to an end. Nature was cruel in giving her such a horrid family and it was even crueller in giving her this illness, causing her to go through long, gruelling, and painful treatments.

Of course, she did give me memories. Like when she braided my hair for the first time, sat by me as I played the piano, asked me to sing for her, and showed me what she did during her arts and crafts periods. How long and often we hugged and how much we talked. Those memories are nice, yes, but they would not have been the same without her.

After some time of further treatments and visits, I came to visit one day but found her room empty. Terrified, I hurried about the hospital, desperate to find her. No matter where I looked in the hospital, I couldn't find her. I could feel my heart shatter and tears welling up in my eyes. Something in my mind told me something was wrong.

As I was preparing to leave, I was greeted by Mako, who said, "Oh, thank heavens I've found you, Sats, anyway, you were going the wrong way!" Sadness turned to surprise, which made me curious. Before I could so much as articulate, she took me by the hand and navigated me to where where she wanted me to go.

When we got there, my sorrow and surprise turned to joy, when I found myself being wrapped in her arms. Despite it all, she had made it and, to both of our happiness, doctors had found no other traces of her illness, rendering her in complete remission. We embraced for a long time.

As promised, when her hair grew back, longer than ever, I braided it, trying it off with a blue ribbon.

Nature was cruel but fate was kind


End file.
